


No More Waiting

by anchoredto717



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 90's Music, Cliche, F/M, Past Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Past Relationship(s), Teen Angst, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27048463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anchoredto717/pseuds/anchoredto717
Summary: The end of Hogwarts, an impending Mastery, and confirmation that Hermione is well and truly over Ronald Weasley: three factors that push Draco into a place he never imagined. Is he really going to Harry Potter’s house party?A one shot heavily inspired by the 90s teen classic, Can’t Hardly Wait.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 71
Collections: Dramione RomCom Fest





	No More Waiting

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [DramioneRomComFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/DramioneRomComFest) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  [Can't Hardly Wait (1998)](https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0127723/?ref_=nv_sr_srsg_0)
> 
> I'm so happy to be participating in my first fest! Thanks to the hosts for being AMAZING. And a big THANK YOU to beautyberry for alpha/beta work and just being a super supporter!
> 
> If you really want to get yourself into the 90s headspace, consider listening to the playlist I put together for MOOD.
> 
> https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1YcumtPu1snyzMjbLANQAw?si=j_s5oH2vTjm_k_TGaRhe5Q

“It’s time.” Pansy nodded firmly to punctuate her statement. She and the rest of the eighth years were packing their belongings for the last time, having completed their magical education at Hogwarts.

“Time for what, exactly?” Blaise asked as he levitated his remaining personal items from his room into his trunk.

Theo answered the question, locking his own trunk before sitting on it. “Time for that miserable sod we call a friend to quit the pining and get the girl.” 

Blaise rolled his eyes and latched his trunk. “Are we really involving ourselves in this anymore? I thought we were done trying to cheer him on like a mum.”

“Yes, he has been overly cautious and wary, but we overheard Ginevra talking to another Gryffindor about Hermione; she’s supposedly ready to move forward.” Pansy had planned that with the Weasley girl perfectly and the “overheard” conversation went off without a hitch.

“Maybe that’s so, but he will start his Mastery in just two months. Perhaps he won’t make a move on Granger knowing he will be elbow-deep in a cauldron for 12 hours a day for the next three years.” Theo’s point, whilst salient, was not going to stop Pansy.

“Plenty of people have relationships while working on a Mastery! And it’s not as if Hermione is someone to look down on him for it,” she exclaimed. “Anyway, she’ll be at Potter’s party tonight. Let’s make sure that Draco knows.”

They walked down the hall of eighth year dorms and confidently strode into Draco’s room, not bothering to knock. With the door shut and locked behind them, Pansy barreled head-first into the conversation. 

“Ready for the party tonight, Draco?”

The young man in question had yet to look up from his desk, his head bent over, his hand furiously writing in the same strange muggle book he’d been using all year. His trio of friends looked at each other with bemused expressions.

Theo reached over and shoved the blonde in the shoulder. “School’s over, mate; time to put down quills and parchment.”

“Some of us have other reasons to write than completing schoolwork, Theo,” Draco calmly drawled, still not lifting his eyes from the page. 

Blaise snorted at that. “We all know those are just your romantic ramblings to Granger in there. We are escorting you to a place where you can act on those besotted notions.”

Draco finally paused in his writing, closed the notebook, and placed his favorite EverInk quill on top. “Despite your misunderstanding of my journal, I’m more concerned about what you think I’ll be doing tonight. I have zero intention of going to Potter’s party.”

“Ah, but that would be a mistake,” Pansy assured him. “Hermione will be there.”

Draco sighed at this. He had been able to admit to himself and his best friends that he was attracted to and admired Hermione Granger. They probably weren’t aware just how long he had been attracted to her, but they certainly knew he’d spent the entirety of 8th year trying to change her opinion of him and befriend her. But it was too soon for any declarations or overt actions, he thought. It was just over a year since the Final Battle and just six months after her break up with Weasley. It was just a few months ago that she stopped seeming anxious if left alone in the common room with him. 

“I have seen Hermione almost every day since the beginning of the school year. It doesn’t change that she won’t want to hear of my feelings. I’m not even sure she considers me an actual friend.”

“You have to try, Draco,” Theo insisted. “Of course she considers you a friend, all of us, in fact. I think she’s been pretty vocal in defending us against the occasional negative comment. She won’t know you are interested in more if you don’t make it known.” 

Pansy could see the hesitation in his eyes. She decided to spill her last piece of information to push him into the right decision. 

“Have you seen the morning’s Prophet?” she summoned the paper from her room and flashed it toward her oldest friend. “Weasley was caught out at the pub by a journalist. He was well into his cups and started jabbering about his relationship with Hermione. He’s claiming she was holding him back from ‘achieving his dreams.’” She emphasized her disgust with that particular quote with a wrinkle of her nose.

Draco echoed Pansy’s feelings on the matter. As if it wasn’t bad enough that git was caught mid-snog with some random bint, now he felt the need to drag her name down. He could only hope that the public thought highly enough of Hermione and low enough of Weasley for the article to have little effect on her. Blaise’s next statement brought Draco out of his own head and back to their conversation. 

“Well, that will be the final nail in his coffin then.”

“How do you mean?” Theo asked.

“Hermione, and Ginny, Neville, and Potter for that matter, have barely needed more reason to be well and truly rid of Weasley. That'll be that last straw.” Blaise seemed convinced. 

“I saw them talking over the paper at breakfast,” Pansy added. “Hermione didn’t even seem bothered. I suppose she is truly over him now.”

Draco’s thoughts spun a bit with all this new information. While he was angry on her behalf, he did hope that she wasn’t upset over it. Perhaps now he could convince her to give him a chance. He glanced around to his mates and could see they all supported him completely. His signature smirk, no longer tainted by his father’s influence, graced his lips.

“Sounds like a great reason to have a party with friends, doesn’t it?”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Pansy had apparated from Platform 9¾ to Blaise’s townhouse in London where the four friends planned to spend most of their time that summer. They spent several hours getting settled in having some dinner before going to the party. They flooed to No. 12 Grimmauld Place just after 9 pm and were immediately hit with the sound of loud Muggle music being magically amplified and the feel of too many bodies in a space. Clearly, Potter had allowed every former Hogwarts student over the age of 17 to come into his home. When Theo commented to him about the large number of people, Harry simply grinned and said, “the more the merrier” or some other inane expression. 

The group of Slytherins spent time talking with just about anyone who came up to them, making it a point as some people still seemed wary of them. All four kept their eyes scanning the party at large, looking for the tell-tale head of riotous curls. Draco wouldn’t have a chance if they couldn’t find her, but he refused to let anyone of his friends ask about her. 

A pale hand tapping nervously on a muggle notebook was the only sign of nervousness he was willing to show, and he kept that discreetly to his pocket. He was using it as a talisman of sorts. It was also his last resort; if Hermione wouldn’t believe his words, or maybe if words failed him altogether, Draco would show her some of his journal entries. Hell, she could have the damned thing if it meant getting a shot. 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“HERMIONE!”

The shout caught the attention of almost the entire party and therefore could not be ignored by Draco. He turned toward the sound since he was also looking for the witch. He groaned and grit his teeth, seeing the lanky redhead shoving others aside to trying to get through the room. Draco then moved his eyes to where it seemed Weasley was going and spotted Hermione talking to someone he believed was in Ravenclaw. She appeared to be telling the other witch that it was ok for her to walk away. He could see the determination in Hermione’s eyes, but couldn't decipher the expression on her face.

“Ronald, I didn’t expect to see you here. I assumed you had other ways to occupy your time these days.”

“C’mon, Hermione, you know I wouldn’t miss a chance to spend time with my girl and my best mate.” 

Draco watched with disgust and anger as Weasley draped his arm around Hermione’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head. He didn’t think he could stand there and watch her give the pathetic sod yet another chance. He was already feeling nauseous with nerves and the sight before him made him definitely iffy. Turning quickly in the opposite direction, Draco took off. His pulse pounded loudly in his ears, keeping him from hearing his friends call out to him. He made for a door that looked to go outside, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his journal. It seemed like a damn waste now, so he tossed it into a random room he passed on his way out.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione looked pointedly at the offending limb, but Ron was too busy checking the crowd around them to notice. As usual, Ron was more concerned about what people thought of him to worry about how he affected those he supposedly cared about. She gingerly used her thumb and forefinger to lift the wrist away from her face, ducking out away from her ex. 

“Ronald, it’s been more than a few months since I was ‘your girl’ and even awhile since I’ve considered you a friend.”

Scrunching his nose and looking around, Ron could see that most of the room was watching their interaction, which he originally wanted, but the conversation was not going as planned. He had to quickly make this go more his own way.

“Don’t be daft, Mione! You’ll always be my girl. I was just giving you space so that he could concentrate at Hogwarts like I know you wanted.” Ron reached over to squeeze her shoulder affectionately, but she pulled even further away from him and started to chuckle.

“Absurd. I specifically remember telling you I wanted to focus on my studies and you telling me to not bother. Didn’t you say it was pointless? I also don’t recall agreeing to remain with you while you dabbled in every lousy bint on the British Isles.” 

The whispers around them were steadily increasing in volume, although more than one “shush” was heard. The crowd was enjoying the show, but Ron definitely was not.

“You’re just jealous, again. It’s just like sixth year! Am I just supposed to ignore people who want to thank me for my part in the war?” He was trying to keep a hold of his temper, but the flush in his face was giving him away.

Hermione crossed her arms across her chest and kept her cool. She would not let Ron provoke her. 

“I wasn’t aware that the common mode of thanks these days was snogging and groping.” The laughter encouraged her that she wasn’t the one being made a fool. 

“You know, I was willing to give you another chance, for you to finally commit to our relationship. But you are just as selfish as ever, only thinking of yourself!” There was loud hissing at this. Ron realized quickly he had not spoken well, especially as it was completely untrue. 

While Hermione didn’t fancy herself particularly violent, she had her breaking points. Ron’s utter stupidity often pushed insistently at those points and this time she had had enough. She stared at him, his heavy breathing, and consciously unclenched her fists as she uncrossed her arms and took a step forward. Quicker than one could say “Lumos,” she had reached out and slapped him hard across his cheek.

“It seems you haven’t gotten any quicker in the past six months, Ron, so I will be as plain as possible: I will never be in a relationship with you again. I was fully committed to you, to us. I loved you. You pulled away. You lied and cheated and tried to cover up your mistakes. You also couldn’t stop yourself from letting press interviews, fans, and an Order of Merlin from going totally to your head. If wanting an education and to work toward a better wizarding world for everyone is selfish, then I will take that label.”

Ron’s face was as red as merlot, both from the slap and his own indignation and fury.

“You are so self-righteous! You’d think you were Merlin’s gift to Wizarding Britain, but you’ll always be the stuck-up swot with no real friends!”

The immediate shift of bodies caught him off guard as he had gotten so angry he had quite forgotten the mass of people. Ron swung his head left and right to see most of the party-goers close in around Hermione, the looks on their faces showing clearly how disgusted they were by him.

“I have plenty of friends, true friends who would never bail on me, no matter what. Friends that know I would never betray them. I’m sorry that you can’t say the same. Goodbye, Ronald.” 

Hermione turned away from the boy she had loved, on one level or another, since she was twelve years old. She ignored the shouts and laughter and people calling her name. She needed quiet and space. She had long since grieved the loss of her friendship with Ron, but she never relished so much attention on her, especially when her words needed to be so cutting. Unfortunately, those were the only kinds of words she had for her former friend and boyfriend.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Draco paced to work out his agitation, quickly trampling a distinct path through the unkempt grass in the slightly dilapidated back garden of 12 Grimmauld Place. He was feeling incredibly stupid and gullible for believing the utter rubbish his mates had pandered to him. Hermione certainly didn’t appear to be moving on from Weasley. They seemed rather cosy. 

“You’re being a bit daft, you know.”

Draco spun on his toes at the airy, wistful, yet reprimanding tone. Just a few arm’s-lengths away stood Luna Lovegood. She was curiously wearing a long white robe, with gold bra and knickers peeking out underneath, tied loosely at the waist with a golden length of rope. Her long blonde hair, just a few shades darker than his own platinum, was topped with a gold circle, hovering just inches above her head. He could see arches of feathered wings just behind her shoulders.

Draco was stunned by the picture, but his mouth truly dropped open as he noticed the gold sandals strapped around her feet and up around her legs.  
“Are you part Veela then?” he asked. 

“Of course not. This is my angel fancy dress.” She answered the question matter-of-factly, despite the vague nature of the response.

“This isn’t a fancy dress party.” He thought he was stating the obvious, but was trying to figure out what exactly was going on.

“Does it need to be? I just thought it looked lovely in the Muggle shop.” She twisted her body back and forth to emphasize just how much she liked the ensemble. 

Draco shook his head, hoping for a bit of focus then remembered how she had originally got his attention.

“Did you call me daft?”

Luna had turned herself to look inquisitively to a scraggly-looking shrub.

“I did. You are a bit,” she continued as she reached a hand to feel the leaves that looked shriveled and dry despite it only being June. “You’re out here pacing instead of inside. You should be there to support Hermione. She needs all the love and support of her friends after Ron’s display.”

Draco was equally confused by the fact that Hermione needed help after interacting with Weasley just now and that Luna assumed he could and would provide her both love and support. He didn’t have time to form the right question before she continued to talk.

“You must have been out here longer than I thought. You didn’t happen to see Ron tell Hermione he would take her back so she wouldn’t always be alone? I guess you didn’t see her slap him, either?”

Draco instinctively brushed his hand against his cheek and nose where he once received his own well-deserved slap from the feisty Gryffindor. Luna turned from her casual horticultural examination to continue her story.

“Think she might have dislocated his jaw, but he quite deserved it. Don’t you want to go find her?” 

This wisp of a woman was uncannily perceptive and insightful and Draco would never forget this in the future. His Slytherin cunning wouldn’t let him as she could be bloody useful in business dealings. He closed his eyes briefly, mustering as much courage as he thought he had. He opened them with a smile on his face and walked up to Luna, taking her hands.

“Yeah, I had better go,” he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Luna.”

She gave a quick squeeze to his hands and gestured for him to go, watching him jog back toward the old Black townhouse.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was surprised to see a muggle notebook sitting on the edge of the coffee table in the study, which was blissfully empty. Despite his upbringing in a muggle home, Harry had left many of his non-magical tendencies by the wayside over the years. Hermione still preferred ink pens to quills, boiled water to charmed, and other small things. She loved parchment, but she also had an affinity for muggle stationery. She often used these same black books while at Hogwarts for note-taking. Some people commented on it through the years, but mostly it was shrugged off.

She thought, perhaps, she had left it here at some point, but her books were always labeled by the subject of the contents within. This cover was blank of any indication. Not to mention, she was generally a neat person and rarely left a personal item lying about. She gently cracked the cover to see if the whole book was empty, but quickly noted the slanted, narrow handwriting on the first page. Hermione looked around to see if there was any sign of someone coming to claim their forgotten notebook, but all the other people in the hall were busy laughing and drinking. She thought maybe reading a few lines would indicate whom it belonged to so she could return it to the owner. 

Any guilt she may have felt at depriving the owner of their privacy was forgotten as she casually flipped to a random page, though it appeared to be the most often revisited. Her name was written several times on the page. The handwriting here appeared to be the same as the first page and a quick flutter through the book showed the entries were all by the same individual. She turned back to the page she had seen her name on and began to read, not able to deny her curiosity. 

_“I don’t even know what I would say to you if I ever thought you would hear me. It hurts when I think about not seeing you anymore, but it also hurts to see you each day and not tell you how incredible you are. Powerful, kind, a leader, altruistic, passionate. You have so many qualities that any wizard or witch would desire in a partner. You also inspire me. I strive to be more driven and caring and joyful each day in hopes you will notice and appreciate the man I’m trying to be. I want to care for you, make you laugh and smile, and learn and grow with you. In some ways, I would be thrilled to have our tentative friendship thrive, but I also, perhaps selfishly, want so much more. Can you ever look at me as a worthy man and wizard?”_

As Hermione continued to read the journal entry that read more like a letter, she could feel the tears pricking her eyes and quickly dabbed them with the cuff of her jumper. She had absolutely no idea that anyone could feel so strongly about her, brilliant yet plain, brave, but bossy. She was too outspoken and passionate and a stickler for rules. It was one of the reasons she stayed with Ron despite not seeing a future between them. It had felt comfortable and familiar and safe. Ron had known her and was with her despite her flaws. She should have ended it long before he had. 

And here was this boy, this young man, who saw her courage and fire, but also compassion and desire for fairness. He saw her as intelligent, but also a powerful witch with grace and beauty. Seeing herself through his eyes was upsetting some of her worldview. Was this how she could be seen by everyone? Could she carry the confidence his words gave her through her life?  
Hermione was also concerned that the wizard she had thought a good friend was doubting the depth of the friendship.

“How did you get that?” 

The question made her shiver a bit with nerves but was said kindly, curiously. The question confirmed her suspicions of the owner of the journal.

“I found it lying about. I thought perhaps it was one of mine I misplaced since I’ve never seen anyone else use them in the wizarding world. It’s yours, isn’t it?”

Draco’s eyes widened. He had never thought about her mistaking his journal for one of her own. He barely ever left the thing out of his possession. He began to reach for the notebook in her hands then froze as his fingers clasped the edge. Though Hermione’s face was passive, her eyes were more curious than he had ever seen them, which he thought quite the feat given her general overzealous tendency to know everything. The flash of a thought solidified in his brain.

“You read it, haven’t you?”

The tips of her ears and the very tops of her cheeks flushed as she turned her face away. It hid the reaction, not at all, so she stiffened her shoulders just a bit to ready herself. 

“I read a single entry, though it seemed to be one you reviewed often.” Hermione saw Draco now turn away, though his hand still held onto the notebook. “Draco, do you really believe this? That I’m so bloody high and mighty that I wouldn’t even agree to a date with you?”

“That’s not exactly what I wrote in there…”

“Is this some type of joke then? A prank--”

“Sweet Salazar, NO!” The purse of lips had him taking a breath to organize his thoughts. He shoved his unused hand into his hair, sweeping it back. “Look, Hermione, there just has seemed to be too many factors working against me. Our history, the war, Weasley, your friends, wizarding society, and my trial and probation. Merlin, what was there to tell me I had any chance, any right to want you?”

She thought about his explanation while staring at their physical connection, both still grasping onto the notebook between them. He certainly had a point. The friendship was tentative. She had been wary of his new attitude and manner since the beginning of the school year, but tried her best after the Christmas hols to believe his words and actions, to trust that he was not the bully of years past, and certainly not a proudly branded Death Eater. Just then a random memory popped into her head.

“Aren’t you leaving soon? I’d heard you were accepted into a Potions and Alchemy Mastery program.”

He nodded and confirmed that he was set to begin in August, but that only the first three months were in Algiers. Once his new Potions Master settled his affairs, they’d both be back in England. 

“That’s fantastic, Draco. I’ll be working toward a Mastery as well, you know? Well, two, in fact,” she said with a smile, knowing that he didn’t still begrudge her zealousness for learning.

“Well done, you. With whom?”

Hermione spent the next few minutes gushing about her coup to get Professors Flitwick and Sprout to take her on at the same time. Draco was impressed and quietly elated; she would still be within Floo’s reach to him after Samhain. They stood smiling at each other. Allowing her instincts to lead her, Hermione tugged quickly on his notebook, bringing him even closer to her.

“Where does that leave us, then,” she asked him.

“There’s an ‘us,’” he questioned back, his smile becoming a bit wider.

“Could be,” Hermione replied with a nod.

Draco let go of the muggle journal he treasured for the last nine months and trailed his hands slowly from her wrists to her shoulders, squeezing them firmly. He continued to move them gently around her neck, his thumbs circling against her jaw. Hermione's eyes were locked with his, the steel grey seeming warmer than she’d ever seen. She noted they briefly strayed to her lips, but snapped back, with more apprehension and determination. Hermione unconsciously nodded her head a bit, but hoped it conveyed her approval. 

Draco closed the last half-step of distance between them and took the kiss Hermione offered. He knew it was a cliche, but he would swear his blood thrummed and his magic pulsed as he finally tasted the witch of his dreams. He felt a swoop in his chest as Hermione kissed him back with fervor and tightly squeezed her arms around his waist. He pulled back just enough to take a breath and felt his face break in a smile of utter happiness. Draco opened his eyes just enough to see that same happiness on Hermione’s face and leaned his forehead against hers.

“Absolutely worth the wait.”


End file.
